


I'll See Your Arrow!

by Uthizaar



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Alternate Reality, Arrowcave, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Open Relationships, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uthizaar/pseuds/Uthizaar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Laurel’s actions in S03E03, but AU for hot young men and Oliver to be jealous. Established relationship with Roy/Oliver, some PWP, new characters. Explicit sexual content in most chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before Dawn's Light

He sees the figure one night, Roy is on patrol and spots a flash of white and gold disappear around a corner. Intrigued, he pads softly towards the building. He stops when he hears an unmistakable gurgle and gasp. Drawing his bow and placing an arrow to it carefully, he half draws it and steps around the corner. In front of him is the figure, dressed in a long flowing robe of dulled steel, the hood cream with gold trim, the figure obviously cared little for melding with the shadows. It was knelt over the bleeding form of a man, his torso slashed open and the blood pooling around him. The figure stiffened when Roy approached. It stood up and turned to face him, hood drowning its face in shadows and darkness, an overhead floodlight throwing his body into even darker shadow. One gloved hand rested easily on the hilt of a concealed weapon, the other was hanging loosely by its side. Roy approached carefully, eyes never leaving the figure except to quickly check out the bleeding man. 

 

‘Who are you? What did you do to that man?’ Roy called out to the silent figure. No response except to stand there passively. Roy was close now, he stopped moving a few feet from the figure. It seemed to be analysing the situation, eventually it reached a decision.

‘He was evil. He got what he deserved. As do all who escape the justice of the law.’ The voice was deep and unaltered, male obviously and youngish to Roy’s ears. The man turned around, his back to Roy and knelt down again. The flash of a bulb and the click of a camera illuminated the scene for a second before the darkness returned. ‘See?’ The man held out two photos to Roy. In one the dead man was seen leaving a court house, the title proclaiming ‘Triple Murderer Walks Free After CSI Bungles Evidence!’ while the other photo was a freshly printed polaroid of the same man lying in his own blood. Roy looked up and nodded, ‘Yeah, I see.’

 

‘You can call me the Justicar.’ The man took back the photos and turned away.

 

‘Wait!’ Roy called after his retreating back, ‘I know the Arrow! I work with him. He’d want to meet you!’ The man stopped, turned around and flicked a card into Roy’s chest. Looking down he saw a name and a scrawled address. The Justicar called out to him from half way down the alley, ‘I’m looking for him, find him first and I’ll see your Arrow!’ Roy looked back up and the Justicar had gone. Roy couldn’t help but smile to himself; the way the Justicar had said ‘your Arrow,’ was, well, blush worthy. He grinned as he thought of the Arrow and the Justicar, before shaking his head and got back to reliving the night, that first special night he and Oliver had together. The night Oliver would never speak about when anyone else was around, but still left his bed open to Roy if he wanted it. Which he did, frequently.

 

Two blocks away the Justicar dropped his hood and ran a gloved hand through his short caramel coloured hair. He had waited two weeks before the Red Arrow noticed him, tailing him on his patrols, following him home, and to the club, over and back, over and back, waiting for that one perfect moment to grab him. But the Herring had suggested another way and the Justicar was born. At first it had been difficult to accept how much fun it was, but now the man had embraced this new persona, grinned every time he pulled on the robes, the tight fitting mesh undershirt, the mailed gloves, and that hood. It gave him a certain power, more than he got from the Herring. His boss didn’t realise it at first, didn’t think about what creating a 'hero' would mean for his little crime cartel; just wanted to take out the Arrow's sidekick, a little leverage. But he learned soon enough, a sword through the throat can do that.  
The Justicar climbed up the last stretch of wall beneath his rooftop home. Ducking under the tarp into the dust covered windowed room, he looked around carefully to see if anything was out of place. Nothing. Disarming several cunningly placed traps, he shrugged off his robes, the mesh armour underneath gleaming silver like fish scales. He kept his gloves on however, didn’t like taking them off anymore, his ruined hands were hard to look at, unlike these perfect silver gauntlets. The Justicar sat looking out at the fading lights of the city as dawn slowly approached. The Red Arrow was his target, not for justice, but for something a little more...fun. Why did he have to be stuck with the Green Arrow? Why not be with someone a little younger, a little more enjoyable, a little freer? 

 

Roy walked back to Verdant just before dawn broke, his feet tired, his fists bruised and his quiver a little lighter, but in good spirits after dispatching a group of would-be drug dealers. Slipping in the back door, he padded down the metal staircase, careful not to wake Oliver who slept in the back of the Arrowcave. Roy hung up his bow and arrows in the case and started undressing, the armour that Oliver got for him was strong and protective, but damn was it tight fitting. He threw back the hood and took off the mask, pulled down the leg guards, unclipping the jacket from it and unbuckling the belt and knives before placing them carefully into the case beside the bow. Dressed now in only his boxer briefs Roy walked quietly over to the closed off bedroom area, cleaning the black under-mask off. Peeking around the door, he saw Oliver sprawled out on the mattress, quilt covers grabbed around his waist. He was alone, unlike some nights Roy had been here, and had left disappointed. He opened the door fully and sneaked into the room, closing it gently behind him. Roy slipped under the covers behind Oliver and circled his arms around the archer’s muscled torso. 

 

‘Heard you since you walked down the stairs,’ Oliver muttered, half asleep as Roy frowned at the back of his head.

‘No you didn’t. I was super quiet this time.’

‘Mmhh, nope. Heard you. Try again tomorrow.’

‘Huh, fine.’ Roy huffed at him, turning over so Oliver could reverse the position, his strong arms wrapping around Roy’s lithe body. Roy settled down, his eyes dropping as he relaxed into Oliver’s grip. But it seemed Oliver had other ideas. Roy could feel the older man rubbing circles on his stomach and squirmed restlessly as Oliver grinned and continued on; Roy was secretly very tickly. Roy tried to move forward and Oliver pulled him back against himself. Roy stopped as he felt Oliver’s arousal poke him in the back.

‘Oh, so it’s like that, huh?’

‘It is morning after all. If you wanted to sleep, should’ve got here sooner.’

‘Huh, ok.’ Roy shot back as he began to grind against Oliver, eliciting moans from him. Oliver responded by drifting his hands lower into Roy’s briefs, grasping his hard cock through the fabric. They began to grind in motion, getting hotter and harder until Roy had enough. 

 

He turned around and pushed the covers back. Oliver laid on his back as Roy straddled his waist, pulling off Oliver’s boxers and unleashing his large thick cock, Roy arched upwards as Oliver helped him off with his briefs. Roy pressed his own cock against Oliver’s and began to move up and down as Oliver pulled him in close, kissing him hard, their mouths open, tongues nipping in and out, before doing battle; Roy’s small and fast, Oliver’s big and overbearing. They moved harder against one another, their moans loud and fast now. Oliver placed one hand on Roy’s neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, while the other drifted down his back until it rested on one of Roy’s smooth perky butt cheeks. Roy moaned deeper into Oliver’s mouth as the man squeezed his ass, their cocks leaking pre-cum, lubing their slide against each other. Oliver pulled Roy a little higher on him to get easier access to his ass. With both hands now, Oliver pulled and massaged Roy’s ass, making him moan even harder at the thought of what was to happen next. Oliver’s fingers drifted ever closer to the puckering hole as Roy clenched and unclenched. Oliver broke the kiss for a second to look into the younger man’s eyes. Roy nodded and whispered, ‘Please.’ Oliver wetted one finger and pushed into Roy making him arch in pleasure. 

Roy again switched positions so he was on the bottom, legs spread open as Oliver reached over to his bedside locker for the lube. Roy licked his lips in anticipation, casually jerking off as he waited for Oliver to get ready. He had been fucked before, but still relished the preparation. Oliver lubed two fingers and inserted them slowly, waiting for Roy to relax, glancing up to see him close his eyes and continue to stroke his cock. Oliver began to stretch him, pulling his fingers in and out before adding a third and continuing as Roy moaned. ‘Ok. Do it.’ Roy groaned at him even as he continued to close his eyes, the room was still dark, morning’s amber light a way off. Oliver unwrapped the condom and lubed his cock before placing it at Roy’s open and eager hole. ‘Ready?’ 

‘Mhhh!’

‘Ok, then!’ Oliver pushed into Roy, his hands holding the younger man’s legs up as he eased his length into Roy. Fully inside they both pause, and then Oliver begins to move, First it’s nice a slow; an easy pace to get Roy used to Oliver’s thick manmeat, and then he speeds up, his cock ploughing in and out of Roy’s hungry hole even as Roy moans himself hoarse, his own hand a blur on his cock, Oliver pulling out almost fully and then plunging all the way back in, filling Roy so nicely, making him moan and shudder and whisper Oliver’s name over and over and over again. Oliver keeps pushing in and pulling out and plunging back in and rubbing Roy’s hard nipples, massaging his sweat slick abs, joining his hand on his hard cock; jerking him off together. Oliver could feel it building inside him, that power just shooting up, he pulled out of Roy for the last time, whipping off the condom and bringing his cock level with Roy’s. Together they jerked furiously until Roy came first; his cum shooting high hitting his hair first and then his nose and chin, the final shots settling on his pecs and naval. Oliver came seconds later, his cum spurting up onto Roy’s chest and abs. 

 

Spent, Oliver fell softly on top of Roy, grinning at him, even as Roy wiped the cum from his face. ‘Ugh, it’s been a while since I spurted that high. Hey, it’s not funny.’

‘Hmm, yeah.’ Oliver kissed him then, hard and passionate like there was no one else in the world, like there was never anyone else in that bed than him. Roy kissed him back, before pulling him to their original positions with Oliver behind him, his sticky cock pressed up against him. Roy pulled the quilt around him, letting the cum dry on his chest, feeling tired again. Drifting off to sleep he remembered the mysterious man he met in the night. The Justicar. He should tell Oliver about him, not now though, Oliver was snoring behind him. Roy remembered those words, ‘…I’ll see your Arrow!’ Roy couldn’t deny the thrill in his stomach, the little chill that went down his spine into his cock. The Justicar!


	2. A Meeting In the Storm

It was raining, thunder rolled across the sky to the far south, the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the dark city. Roy hunched over the metal gantry, high above the streets, his hood pulled back and his short black hair slick with water. He shuddered now and again as drops dribbled down his neck and under his armour. As much he didn’t want to admit it, he was sulking. Oliver had got mad at him. ‘Interrupting the mission,’ he said, ‘too aggressive with the suspects,’ he said, ‘flirting a little too obvious,’ he said. Roy had bickered with him all during the mission and then they had the worst argument yet when they got back to the club. The kind of fight where one just leaves, slamming the door and the other yells ‘don’t come back!’ after them. 

 

Sometimes Roy thought he loved Oliver, and then other times he hated him. He hated the way Oliver could never be open about their relationship with Diggle and Felicity. He hated the way Oliver brushed him off whenever an ‘old friend’ rolled into town. Hated the fact that Oliver slept around, and always with women. Was he that insecure? Wasn’t he enough for the Arrow? Roy shook his head, biting on one lip to stop his tears from falling. He hated feeling weak, feeling like he wasn’t good enough. So he had stormed out, yelling angrily that he was going on patrol, thundering up the stairs, slamming the door so hard it rattled on its hinges. Four attempted muggings later, the villains tied up and punched around, Roy felt a little better, though not enough to go back to Oliver. He didn’t feel like looking into Oliver’s eyes and seeing that half sorry expression. Even make-up sex with him wouldn’t cut it. Not yet anyway. 

 

Roy became alert, feeling eyes on him, he slowly reached down for a throwing knife sheathed on his thigh. In one fluid motion he grasped the blade and turned to face his attacker. The rooftop was empty, nothing but scattered plastic sheeting and the occasional aircon hood. Roy relaxed for a moment before tensing up again. There was definitely someone here with him. 

 

He turned back towards the city and started as a shadow slipped out from the wall in front of him. His eyes ran over the figure quickly.

‘You!’

‘Me. Or Justicar, if you prefer.’ The Justicar stood in front of him, easier to see than the last time, although where he came from was hard to say. ‘You really should work on your combat awareness, slipped right behind you!’ The man barked a short playful laugh and stood with his hands leaning on the metal gantry behind him. Lightning flashed overhead, a little closer now and Roy caught a glimpse of his face: young, smooth, dark coloured eyes glinting warmly, even as his mouth opens in an easy grin. Roy gulped as he felt his cock harden; this guy was hot, his steel robe open and the torso bound in stripes of silver and gold leather, that face, even for a second, the playful attitude. He liked it all, couldn’t help but lick his lips.

The Justicar smiled again as he watched the Red Arrow inspect him. ‘So, what’s a hero like you doing up here on a cold winter's night?’

‘Oh, not much. Just finished a patrol, actually.’ Roy shrugged off the question, ‘You?’

‘Just passing by. Saw someone up here and thought I’d check it out. Never know who you’ll find if you look.’

‘Huh, passing by?’

‘Yeah, got a lead on one of my targets. Turned out to be a bust, so I’m headed home. You never tracked down my last target. Guess the Arrow wasn't that interested after all? Or maybe you got there too late. Either way the bastard got what was coming to him. This guy will get the same, worse probably.'

Roy digested this for a moment. He had never told Oliver about his meeting with this new ‘hero,’ the morning after was too busy and then he didn’t see the older man for a week when he went off to China for a ‘mission’ and then he had just let it rest. Although some discreet checking had revealed that the Justicar’s target, a drug dealer who used children as mules, had met a grisly end with his hands and feet chopped off, disembowelled and left to bleed to death. Oliver didn’t kill anymore, since Tommy’s death, but before that he killed a lot; quick and clean though, this guy sounded like he took every target's crime personally. 

‘So you’re a big fan of the Arrow, I take it?’

‘Huh?’ 

‘You have a list, you kill bad guys, you think its justice?’

The Justicar reached out to pull Roy face to face, or at least hood to mask. ‘No, I’m not like that. No list. Some people need to be punished. For every crime, justice. For every injustice, retribution. I kill those who deserve it and suffer no interference in my pursuit of their rightful penance.’

Roy could smell the man’s aftershave; a sweet, spicy tingly scent that made him breathe deeply even as they stood a few inches apart. ‘So judge, jury and executioner? Is that what you tell yourself? It’s justice?’

‘Drug dealers, rapists, paedophiles, murderers, the scum in this city who should receive justice's burning fire but don’t because the evidence is flawed or the witnesses are bought and afraid, or the sentence is laughably short, I serve true justice and mete it out to make it clear that criminals will be punished.' The Justicar had spent a lot of time preparing that speech, he went over it every time he pulled on his robes and gloves, every time he found a target, every time he pulled out his sword and killed. He even started to believe it.

Roy didn’t want to agree with the Justicar, it wasn’t Oliver’s way, wasn’t his, to deal in such stark absolutes. But right now he didn’t care, he grasped the man’s arm and pulled himself closer until they stood together, hip to hip, arms wrapped around waists, nose to nose. Roy pushed himself forward and the Justicar responded by capturing his mouth. They stood there in the rain and rolling thunder, lips pressed together hard, mouths open and tongues cautiously entering the other, as Roy reached up a hand to caress the man’s face. Even with his gloves on he could feel the barest hints of stubble along his cheek and jawline, the softness of the flesh behind his ears, the short hair and the back of his neck. Yet even as he continued to explore the mysterious man’s face he began to feel the indentations and raised skin of old and new scars. A jagged line ran across his nose to his left eye. Just as Roy began to trace it gently with one finger, the Justicar pulled back and forced his hands away from his face.

‘Stop.’

‘I’m sorry. What happened?’

The Justicar shrugged, ‘They’re just battle wounds, a little sensitive is all.’

‘Right. Uh…’ Roy hesitated, ‘Can I see?’

The Justicar laughed, playful again. ‘Sure. But if I show you mine, you’ve got to show me yours! I want to see you without the mask.’

Roy grinned, ‘Seems fair. Go on then.’ He leaned back against the gantry as the Justicar lifted his gloved hands to the cream coloured hood. Taking it in both hands he thrust it back in one motion. Roy looked him over quickly, ‘You’re younger than I expected.’ Another grin, this time he saw the perfect smile, brilliant white teeth. He moved closer, the Justicar was a little taller than him, but not as tall as Oliver. His hair was shortish, black and flecked with gold here and there, his eyes a darker green than Roy’s own. His face was cute more than handsome, but the scar he had felt when they kissed was fresh and tender looking, an angry red slash across his face, others had faded into white traces, concentrated around his right eye socket. Roy’s expression softened when he saw the extent of the scaring but the Justicar quickly tapped him on the cheek.

‘Hey!’

‘No pity, I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime. Now show me. I want see all of you.’

‘Ok.’ Roy took off his mask and stuffed it into one pocket as the Justicar held a hand up to his mouth to stifle a laugh. ‘What?’

‘You look like a panda!’ He burst into laughter as Roy frowned at him before lunging at the Justicar. They went down hard as the Justicar grabbed Roy’s arms and rolled him over. Roy locked one leg around the man’s waist and pulled him back down as he tried to stand up. They wrestled intently for a few minutes until the Justicar was pinned down by Roy, one arm buried between the two of them, the other pinned above his head. The Justicar continued to laugh as Roy pressed down on him.

‘Beaten by Red Panda! How will I recover from the shame?’ 

‘I’m sure you’ll manage.’

He leant up and pulled Roy down into another kiss, as Roy released his grip. The Justicar waited until he had both hands free and deftly flipped Roy onto his back and straddled his waist. ‘This is fun. But we’re pretty wet and you would not believe how hard it is to get this hood dry!’

‘Mhhm. You have a plan?’

‘Better yet, I have a place. Not much, but you’re welcome.’

Roy hesitated, looking up into the man’s face.

‘Unless you’ve got somewhere better to be?’

Go back to Oliver? No, not tonight. But…

‘What’s your name? And Justicar doesn’t count.’

‘I guess that makes sense. A name for a name?’ Roy nods, ‘Okay, don’t laugh. Ares.’

‘Unusual name, I’m Roy.’

‘Roy? I like it! Ares, Greek god of War? Ring a bell? No?’ He sighed, ‘Father was a war historian, mother a Greek archaeologist. Guess it could be worse.’ He smiled down at Roy, ‘Come on, let’s go.’

 

Roy pulled his hood back over his head as the Justicar did the same, instead of walking down the gantry and through the construction site, Ares stood up on the wall surrounding the roof and raised his hands.

‘Uh, what are you doing? Exit’s over there.’

‘Perhaps for you mere mortals, but I have a grappling hook. That’s how I got up here so fast. You can join me if you’re not scared.’

Roy scoffed and took the offered hand, wrapping his arms around Ares’ waist and burying his face in the Justicar’s neck. ‘Here we go!’ Roy felt him push off the wall into free fall, until the tug of the rope around their waists took hold. Pushing off the wall again, he could feel the laughter bubbling up in Ares body. ‘What?’

‘Nothing. I just feel so alive doing this! It’s like driving a fast car really fast, knowing at any moment you could crash and lose it all; the risk, the buzz, I love it!’

‘You’re crazy!’

‘Yup!’


	3. The Other Man

Roy looked around the rooftop, it was gravelled and raked, no weeds growing in it. A small wall enclosed the roof area, about shin height. After Ares jumped off the gantry, they had ran for about a mile along dark, deserted streets until they came to the part of the Glades still lying in rubble. One lone building stood upright among the wreckage of twisted girders and concrete slabs. Ares gestured upwards when they arrived at the boarded up doorway. ‘We go up. It’s ok, I’ve a grapple for that too.’ Roy stood back and watched him pull out a grapple gun and shoot upwards, hearing the thunk as the bolt dug into the bricks. 

‘Fancy. Where’d you get that?’

‘Oh, picked it up a few weeks ago from some wannabe hero, who killed a few good people.’

Roy frowned at him, ‘Do I want to know?’

Ares shrugged, ‘Probably not. You’re a nice guy, you’d have a problem with me then.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Plus, I figured you wouldn’t want to come up if you knew.’ Ares replied with a grin. Roy shook his head and smiled back before wrapping his arms around the man, tightening his grip as they left the surface and sped upwards, mere inches from the bricks. 

 

Now Roy stood in front of what Ares called his ‘home.’ It had the look of a tool shed that had been converted somewhat inexpertly into a cabin. Pieces of tarp covered various parts of the roofs, plywood peeking out from the areas not entirely covered. The windows wrapped around the entire structure, tiny little panes of glass which had gone a greenish colour. The door was little more than a sturdy plank which Ares shoved to one side before entering. Roy sighed to himself as he thought that Oliver had probably lived in something similar when he was stuck on that island. 

 

The interior was dark, very dark, but Ares moved around with little difficulty. As Roy’s eyes became accustomed to the dim light he saw that the building was rather large, divided in three areas. The first part, where he was standing, was obviously for training and mission prep. There were a number of crude training dummies in various stages of construction, or destruction, he couldn’t tell which. A low table in front of him had three sheathed swords; two longswords and a shortsword. He fingered their scabbards as he waited for Ares to get the lights; they were richly decorated and seemed out of place amid everything else. Roy could hear the low humming of a computer behind him and he looked over a target to see several monitors at low lightning levels. While no computer expert, he could see that the make and models of the towers and screens were high end, similar to what Felicity had set up in the Arrowcave. He frowned, it was jarring to see a lot of obviously homemade furniture side by side with a lot of expensive weapons and computers. As Roy looked into the room behind the central one he noticed the light levels had risen to just enough to see everything. Ares came out from the other room, the bed visible behind him.

‘Sorry for the low lights, I just prefer it that way.’

‘It’s ok. You, uh, have some pretty nice swords.’ Roy gestured to the table as Ares grinned at him.

‘Yeah, but don’t worry, I didn’t have to kill anyone for those. They were my mother’s.’

‘Didn’t you say she was an archaeologist?’

‘Yeah, but that was just the day job.’

‘Right,’ Roy wasn’t sure if he believed him, but it didn’t matter much. He was here now. ‘So…’

‘You want a drink?’

‘Yeah, helps loosen things up.’

‘Hehe, I guess. Come on.’

 

Ares led Roy into the third room, indicating for Roy to sit in an armchair by the cooling remnants of a fire, the coals just flickering back to life after fresh fuel was placed on top. Ares went over to the fridge and pulled it open.

‘What’s your poison?’

‘Uh, beer’ll do. If you have it?’

Ares laughed, ‘Beer? No. Only the hard stuff, Roy. Here, try this.’ He pulled out a dusty bottle and poured a measure of clear liquid into a glass, sliding it across to him, before pouring one for himself. Roy sniffed at it nervously. 

‘Pwoah! Did you brew this yourself too?’

Ares punched his shoulder lightly as he settled on the arm of his chair, ‘No! Throw it into you!’ As he proceeded to knock the measure back himself. Roy sniffed again before shrugging and pouring the liquid into his mouth. Coughing violently as it burned its way into his stomach, Roy wiped the drops from his lips.

‘Fuck me!’

‘I intend to!’

Roy glared at Ares as he laughed. The Justicar got up, ‘Another?’ 

‘Ugh, yeah.’

‘Good boy!’ He poured out another measure for them both and handed it over. Roy sipped his this time, feeling the burn a lot more pleasant this time. He took off the wet pieces of his chest armour until he was shirtless. His leg-guards were almost dry now so he left them on.

‘Getting started already, huh?’ Ares looked over at Roy as he downed the drink in one gulp.

‘Go easy.’

‘Why?’

‘Won’t you get drunk?’

‘I have a two drink limit when I’m with people. Enough to loosen up, not enough to…’

‘Reveal secrets?’

‘Something like that.’ Ares was quiet a moment, before looking back to Roy. ‘Ok.’ He unclipped the hidden clasps at his shoulders with a snap and Roy watched as the cloak and hood were pulled off properly. Ares dumped them on the table nearby with a clink. The armour underneath was more of a vest than a breastplate as Roy had expected. Ares’ arms were exposed, strong, supple and tanned, he watched as the Justicar flexed gently, stretching his muscles. The vest was also held by clasps at the side which allowed him to pull it off with ease, unlike all the zips and laces in Roy’s armour. 

 

Roy stood behind Ares, pressing against him, his hardening bulge pressing against the Justicar’s tight ass, hard nipples pressed against that smooth tanned skin, as he wraps his arms around the man’s waist. Roy leans in and begins kissing him, gently at first, pressing his lips against Ares’ neck, breathing in his heady aftershave, feeling him arch backwards into his touch. Ares grinds back into Roy’s cock, eliciting a fresh waves of moans. Roy reaches for him, wants to kiss him properly and Ares responds by pulling him down into the armchair. Roy straddles his lap as their lips touch and feels that electric shock spark down his spine and into his clenching ass. Roy pushes into him, forceful for once, opening his mouth and thrusting his tongue inwards, invading Ares, even as he feels his still covered hands on his waist. Roy startles a bit at the cool touch. The metal gauntlets are smooth and hard, but unfamiliar. He breaks the kiss, their foreheads pressed together as he whispers ‘Can you take them off?’

‘Uh, it’s better if I don’t.’

‘Why?’

‘My hands, they’re…they’re ruined.’

Roy sat up, concern written across his face. ‘Huh? I’ve seen some bad things. I can handle it.’

Ares looked at him, weighing him up, ‘Ok. I’ll take one off and then you can tell me.’

‘Ok.’

‘You have to get up.’

Roy stood up and began unlacing his leg-guards as Ares went over to the table. He reached behind his left wrist and unlocked the metal clasp holding it in place. Roy watched him, now wearing only his boxer briefs. Ares looked up at him, ‘You sure?’

‘Yeah.’

Slowly the Justicar pulled the metal glove off, the links and metal plates clinking together as he pulled it carefully from his hand. Roy winced when he saw Ares’ hand. It was deathly white, all the colour had been wiped from it, a startling contrast to his otherwise tanned body. There was nothing particularly disturbing about it apart from that; the thumb and fingers were all still there and not mangled or missing like he had thought. Then Ares turned his hand over. The entirety of his palm and the undersides of his fingers and thumb were covered in scars. The white tissue even brighter than the flesh around it. The wounds were deep and repetitive, in between the scars the flesh of his hand looked raw and fresh. Ares clenched his fist, hiding the damage and looked back up at Roy.

‘Well, still interested?’

‘What happened?’

‘It’s a long, sad story.’ Ares looked off into the distance, an unfocused stare, ‘I tried to save someone, save them from a…machine. They said I was lucky to still have my hands…’

Roy looked down at his clenched fist, before moving close and closing his own hand around it. Ares made to move away but Roy held on tight. ‘Hey, it’s ok. Does it hurt?’

‘No, no feeling, just numbness in my fingers. Don’t have any nerve endings left to feel anything there.’

‘Take the other one off.’

‘What?’

Roy reaches up to kiss him, catching his jaw with his free hand. Their lips meet again and this time the kiss is gentle. A metallic clink signals the loss of the other gauntlet as Ares hesitantly pulls Roy close to him, their cocks reigniting their passions.

 

Ares pushed him gently into the bedroom, the low lightning following them in, a row of amber lamps provide a warm glow. As Roy lets himself fall on the bed, he looks up at Ares as the man pulls off his pants, faintly surprised they weren’t made of metal too. The light enhances his tan even more and Roy forgets the terrible wreckage of his hands, instead focusing on pulling him close to his body. They kiss for an hour, alternating between a passionate battle of tongues and fierce grinding against each other, and a slower pace. Roy flips Ares onto his back and begins to kiss his way down his smooth tanned chest to his hard cock. Roy pauses only a moment to look into the green eyes watching him before licking his lips and taking the six inches into his hot wet mouth. Roy works his tongue around the head, hearing the man’s moans even as he closes his eyes, reaching down to stroke his own raging cock. He begins to move up and down the shaft, his free hand coming up to play with Ares’ balls, gently rolling them around in his hand. He alternates between rapid in and out suction and deep throating of his cock. Roy feels Ares clench and pulls off, too eager for more before letting him cum.

Ares swaps with him and takes Roy’s cock into his mouth without hesitation, hearing him moan and mumble his name as he works up and down the shaft, his own hands roaming up and down his smooth, muscled stomach and abs. Roy couldn’t help but thrust upwards, lost in the feelings Ares was provoking. Gone were his initial thoughts of Oliver: how Oliver did it, how Oliver liked it, how Oliver didn’t like giving, how Oliver only wanted something quick each time. Now Roy was lost in the pleasurable glow of mutual satisfaction and was prepared to give in right there. But much like Roy, Ares wasn’t ready to let him go so easily. He pulled off and moved back up Roy’s smooth, perfect body to capture his mouth.

Another round of passionate kissing gave way to Roy turning over and spreading his legs wide, his anticipation at feeling Ares inside him was too much. He needed him now. Ares reached over to his bedside locker and pulled out a well-used bottle of lube and a condom. He looked down at Roy’s smooth perky ass cheeks and couldn’t help but massage them slowly, pulling the cheeks apart and pressing them back together, hearing him moan in pleasure. Dribbling the lube all over his fingers, Ares parted Roy’s ass and inserted one, two, and then three fingers into him. Roy moaned his name and pushed back against him, rubbing his aching cock on the bed, begging for more. Ares moved his fingers in and out, slowly at first to loosen him up, then faster as he began to finger fuck Roy. Roy even raised himself up onto his knees and allowed Ares to wrap his free hand around his cock and together jerk him off. 

Ares pulled out and quickly pulled the condom onto his eager cock. He positioned himself at Roy’s entrance and pushed in hard as Roy groaned. Together they begin to move, Roy moving back and forth while Ares speeds up to push in and out until they are rocking back and forth against each other. Ares’ hands are clasped tight in Roy’s as they fuck hard, both moaning in pleasure and calling each other’s names as they come closer to their orgasm. They started jack hammering in and out, thrusting like it was some sort of hot, erotic competition.

And then Roy felt it, that final rush that he knew signalled his organism. Even as he clenched his ass tight around Ares’ cock, he moaned hard, feeling himself shaking uncontrollably, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy, bucking his hips up and down ever so little as his cum splattered out across the sheets and sticking to his stomach as Ares pressed down on him, his own cock firing into the condom. Roy grinned as he felt the man’s cock twitch and shudder inside of him, loving that sensation, loving the feeling of being full and, for once, feeling complete. 

 

Ares pulled out slowly, taking off the condom and tossing it expertly into the trash can. Roy made as to get up, but Ares pulled him back down. ‘No, wait.’

‘Ah, but Oliv- Um, I usually shower after.’

‘I don’t care if you’re sticky. Come here.’ Roy settled down in his strong arms. Oliver only occasionally let him sleep after they had sex, usually he wanted Roy to shower off first; didn’t like the tackiness of drying cum. But Ares pulled him close, intertwining their legs and pushing up close to him, arms settling on his, and around his stomach.

In a few minutes the Justicar was asleep, his chest moving up and down slowly. Roy was still awake, drifting off in the warmth of the man’s arms, thinking about Oliver for the first time in hours. Thinking about their argument, thinking about how he had to go back tomorrow; briefings, training, missions. It all seemed so far away. Thinking about the times he had laid in bed with Oliver like this, not feeling the same way, not feeling the same connection. Not feeling himself grin like he was doing now when he thought of Ares snuggling up to him. He couldn’t see Oliver snuggling. Well, he wouldn’t have thought someone called ‘the Justicar’ would either. Maybe Oliver…? Roy stopped fighting the drag of sleep and drifted off even as the sun’s dawn rays began to cover the city.

 

Oliver paced the floor of the Arrowcave. If asked he would deny he was waiting for Roy to come back, but Felicity had got fed up with his restlessness hours ago and left early, muttering darkly about 'secret relationships.' Now alone here, Oliver kept checking his watch, picking up his bow, putting it down again, his neck turning every few moments when there was a creak or a sudden sound. He sighed with every realisation that it wasn’t Roy, playing back their argument from the day before. He’d tried to call him, getting nothing but voicemail. Six messages later, Oliver stopped calling before his sincere apology turned into an angry, bitter rant. If Roy wanted to be alone, fine. But he didn’t even turn up after his patrols, or for training, or for any of the briefings Oliver had planned for this evening. Maybe…Maybe he wasn’t coming back?

The door opened softly and Roy walked silently down the stairs. He peeked down between the bars, seeing Oliver standing with his back to him. Roy continued down until he was leaning nonchalantly against a display case. Oliver took a step back when he turned.

‘Didn’t hear me this time, huh?’

‘I…where have you been?’

‘Do you even care?’

‘Of course I do Roy, You didn’t come back last night, you missed briefings, training. What?’

Roy looked at him, ‘Do you even know what it’s like, Oliver?’

‘I...I don’t understand.’

‘I worry about you. When you’re out there saving the city, taking down guys with guns, bombs, arrows, swords, whatever, I’m concerned about you: are you gonna be ok? What if you get injured? Am I gonna be able to save you?’

Oliver stared at him, ‘I don’t want you to think like that. I can’t let you think like that.’

‘It’s too late.’

‘No, Roy. Remember when I said that relationships would only make the ones we cared about vulnerable?’

‘Yeah, and I told you that I can take care of myself. Do you worry about me?’

‘You…No, I don’t worry about you.’

‘Right,’ Roy scoffed, turning away from Oliver, ‘Do you even know why I left?’

Oliver looked down at the floor searching for the right words, ‘I…dunno.’ He shrugged, ‘Honestly, I don’t.’

Roy looked at him, incredulously, ‘Seriously? That’s it? Damn Oliver, it’s like you’re ok with friends, but anything else, anything serious between us, you just brush me off.’

‘I don’t love you Roy.’

‘I’m not asking you to. I just…I don’t get it Oliver. I’ve seen you with plenty of women, different women, always someone new. But us? Is there even an ‘us’?’

This time Oliver turned away from Roy’s accusing glare, ‘It just happened. That night, Sarah had died, it was just…stress relief.’

‘You bastard.’ Roy walked across the room to stand face to face with him, or rather face to neck; Oliver was quite a bit taller than Roy. ‘So, all those other times? Last week? The week before that? It was…what? Just a bit of fun?’

Oliver looked over his head, unwilling to meet the younger man’s piercing green eyes. ‘Yeah. That’s it.’

Roy bowed his head before looking back up at him, ‘Fine. I’m outta here.’ He turned to leave but Oliver grabbed him by the arm.

‘Roy! Wait, it’s not that simple.’

‘You just said it was. Let go of me!’

‘Roy, I…’

Roy waited for Oliver to say something, anything that might make him stay, but the archer just stood there. Pulling his arm out of Oliver’s grasp, Roy turned to go. He climbed the first stair before turning around, ‘You know Oliver, I don’t mind casual sex, but at least make that clear up front.’

Something in Roy’s tone caught his attention and he called out to Roy’s retreating back, ‘Hey! Did you meet someone?’

Roy paused halfway up the stairs, he and Ares, that had been a onetime thing right? Well, maybe jealous Oliver might fight a bit more. He turned to look over his shoulder at the archer, grinning briefly, ‘Yeah, there’s someone else.’

‘That was quick.’

‘Screw you Oliver.’

Oliver watched as Roy jogged up the rest of the stairs shutting the door behind him with a bang. He ran a hand through his short cut hair, sighing to himself. He couldn’t give Roy the answer he wanted, bad enough he let the younger man tag along with him now the mirakuru was flushed from his system. Yeah, that was it. It was purely professional, nothing to it. Stress relief like he had said.

‘Yeah right.’ Oliver muttered to himself as he walked to his cold, empty bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that certainly got steamy! Well I hoped you enjoyed reading it.Two more chapters left!


	4. Two Sides of the Mirror

‘What the hell was that, Roy?’

‘What!’

‘You blindsided me, I needed you to hold your position, not run off to wherever the fuck you want!’

‘Hey! Maybe I’m fed up of taking orders from you. That’s all you do, yell at me! Do this, Roy! Do that, Roy! Why aren’t you doing it right, Roy?! Well screw you Oliver! I'm not your fucking slave!’

Felicity looked up from the monitor and watched Oliver and Roy argue their way down the stairs. The mission, tracking down an informant, had been a miserable failure. She stood up as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Oliver pushing roughly past Roy as the younger man glared at the back of his head. ‘Um, what happened?’

Oliver turned to glower at Roy before speaking, ‘It was going fine until he let her go.’

‘Excuse me? You told me to wait, like some dog. But I saw her going down an alley and followed. Sorry if I thought I could catch her without your help.’ Roy spat back at him.

‘Okay.’ Felicity quickly interjected, ‘why don’t we see where she went? You got her tagged right?’

Oliver turned away, gritting his teeth, ‘No, she pulled it out. Tricky little…’

‘You failed?’ Roy grinned, smug. ‘Huh, I had the shot, if you had let me take it.’

‘We needed her alive.’

‘Whatever, you can’t even admit you made the wrong call, Oliver.’

Felicity held her hands up as Oliver turned back to face Roy, his hands clenching into fists as Roy bounced on the balls of his feet, fingers tapping a rhythm on his thigh, near his throwing knifes. 

Roy paused, glancing from Felicity to Oliver, before stepping back towards the stairs. ‘I’m outta here. I’ll come back when you actually start treating me like a part of your team, Oliver, not some lapdog here to do whatever the fuck you want.’ He quickly ran up the stairs and out through the empty club. 

 

He stopped in the alley, breathing deeply, controlling his anger, feeling the rush from the adrenaline. He thought he and Oliver were going to start fighting for real, part of him wanted to do it, just wipe that satisfied smirk from his face. He frowned, that familiar prickle on the back of his neck, someone was watching him. He turned slowly on the stop, looking for the source, until he saw a patch of shadows detach from the far wall. As it came closer the dull steel robes revealed Ares, hood down, sly grin on his face.

‘You look angry.’

‘Yeah, the Arrow’s being a dick!’

‘Your mission didn’t go well? Lost your target, huh.’

‘No, it…were you watching us?’

Ares nodded, ‘Yeah, I wanted to see how the Arrow and his team worked.’

‘I never saw you.’

‘That was the point. The target, important?’

‘Oli…uh, the Arrow said so. He didn’t tell me anything else,’ Roy added bitterly. ‘Anyway, she got away, he failed to tag her.’

‘Oh, I followed her to the docks. Went to ground near T&T Electrical’s warehouse.’

Roy looked at him, ‘You wanna go after her?’

He smiled back, ‘Sure. Let’s show the Arrow how it’s done!’

Roy turned to go, but Ares pulled him close to his body, ‘Uh, uh, not so fast.’ Their lips met and Roy allowed his to part and accepted Ares’ tongue into his mouth, moaning as the fires erupted in his stomach and flowed south into his hardening cock. All too soon he pulled away, ‘Come on, we have work to do. Playtime later!’

 

Oliver ground his teeth together as he watched the two men leave on the external camera. That other guy, the one in silver, was attractive enough, completely different from Oliver himself, by looks of his clean shaven youthful face. Oliver reached for his bow and quiver, strapping them on again. He turned to find Felicity standing behind him. ‘What?’

‘Oliver, um, the mission.’

‘What about the mission, Felicity? I’m busy right now, can’t it wait?’ He pushed past her to the stairs.

‘I know about you and Roy!’ She called after him, ‘I know you’re sleeping together.’

Oliver stopped dead in his tracks, his head bowed as his mind raced: he hadn’t been that obvious had he? ‘How?’

‘I heard you…together…a few weeks ago.’

‘How do you know it was…a man?’

‘Oh, I know because you were calling out his name as you-‘

‘Ok. Ok!’ Oliver interrupts, face scarlet. 

‘Anyway,’ Felicity carries on, blushing herself, ‘going after him is pointless unless you know what you want to say. I’m guessing an arrow is not going to fix this.’

Oliver sighed and turned around to face her, the urgency gone from his body. He walked back over to the monitors and sat down. ‘Okay, yeah. We were…I don’t know what to call it, for a few weeks, maybe two months.’

‘Well, what did you think it was?’

‘Honestly, I thought it was just fucking. Oh.’ Oliver stopped talking when he saw Felicity's blush deepen, ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s fine. So, just friends with benefits?’

‘I thought so. But Roy, I guess he took it more seriously. And, no, I don’t think we’re friends.’

‘Well he’s clearly upset with you. That affected the mission. Look, Oliver I know you probably don’t want to talk about this with me and that’s fine, but you have to talk to Roy. How can you expect to protect this city if you guys can’t stand being around each other?’

‘I don’t know how to talk to him, Felicity. Every time I try we just end up fighting.’

‘Do you want him back?’

‘Well, it’s convenient.’

‘Here’s a tip, don’t lead with that. Just tell him how you feel, honestly. If you let him know what he means to you: friend, lover, partner, team mate…maybe you guys can at least work together.’

‘Yeah.’ Oliver stood back up, ‘He did say he met someone else.’

‘Really? Maybe he said that to make you jealous?’

‘Well it worked. Besides he was making out pretty hard with some guy upstairs.’

‘What? Now?’

‘Yes.’ Oliver fixed the quiver to his back and set off up the stairs.

‘Good luck!’ Felicity called up after him, before stifling a giggle as she thinks of the stoic archer in bed with the ever frowning Roy…

 

They made good time to the docks, moving swift and silent through the dark alleys and motionless cranes. Roy rode the motorbike with ease as Ares held onto him tight. There were only three big cargo ships docked, their containers half loaded, as the rough seas had halted the process. The wind was stronger here than in the city, the smell of sea air blown hard ahead of the swell. The warehouse they were headed for was empty too, lights off and the doors wide open. The roof creaked on its rusty supports as the building swayed slightly in the strong gale.

‘Here? You’re sure?’

‘Yeah, Roy. Or is it Red Arrow?’ 

‘Roy is fine.’ He grinned back, ‘but I’m thinking of changing it.’

‘Let me know, no point in standing in someone else’s shadow.’ He nodded towards the back corner. ‘Over there, I reckon. Blocked from sight by the empty container, easy exit through the back. You flush her out and I’ll grab her, ok?’

‘Sounds good. We need her alive though.’

‘Don’t worry, she’ll be breathing.’

‘Uh, huh.’ Roy watched as the Justicar faded into the shadows leading towards the back of the warehouse. He pulled out his bow and notched a flare arrow to the string. He ran towards the corner and rolled past the container and released the arrow, noting the surprised face of the woman they were trying to capture. The arrow exploded in a burst of white light making her scream as it burned her eyes. Disorientated, she scrabbled out the back entrance, arms waving in front of her as her sight gradually returned. 

There was a man standing in front of her, hood drawn up; his features obscured and a thick, heavy blade bare at his side. It was like a long cleaver, glinting in the moonlight. She stopped, eyes darting around the alley, only to find herself trapped. She slipped a hand into her coat and pulled out a baton.

Ares grinned in the darkness as she approached him, the baton crackling to life as an electric charge ran through it. Centring himself, he swung his sword upright and blocked her first attack. Then the next and the next, blocking each time with ease as he changed hands to turn sharply and thrust the blade towards her, nicking her legs and then tracing upwards to cut her stomach. Her sharp breaths gave her away as he closed his eyes, relying on his other senses rather than trying to see in almost complete darkness. She ducked low, making a mistake and he turned his sword to counter as she stepped hurriedly backwards, her baton cleaved in two. 

 

She dropped the useless stick and tried to run, finding her way blocked again by another man; this one with a bow. She dropped to her knees, defeated. ‘Please,’ she rasped out, ‘Please don’t kill me.’

‘No, not yet. Answer our questions and you get to live. Don’t, and I’ll let my friend over there chop you into little bits, ok?’

She backed up and Roy restrained her hands to the brick walls of the factory next door with a quick change of arrow heads. Ares sheathed his sword and drew open his cloak to reveal a dagger with a much smaller, thinner blade. He pulled it out and began to toss it up and down, the woman’s eyes following it.

‘I’ve got your attention, good. You can start.’ He nodded at Roy, running his gloved fingers along the smooth, deadly edge.

Roy began asking general questions, not sure what he was meant to ask her. As the details became clearer he got more specific, noticing that the Justicar had stopped playing with the knife, instead focusing all of his attention on the woman.

‘This boss of yours, what’s his name?’

‘I don’t know his name.’

‘Tell us!’ Roy punched the wall near her face, snarling the words.

‘I…I just know what his men call him.’

‘Well?’

‘They, they call him “The Herring” but I don’t know why, it’s not very impressive.’

‘What are they planning?’ Ares’ voice was soft, dangerous.

‘They know the Arrow has a sidekick, a partner, young guy. You, I reckon.’ She nodded at Roy, ‘They were going to capture you, get the Arrow to come to them and kill you both.’

‘Fuck. How were they going to capture me?’

 

Path Divergence: One.

 

Ares bowed his head, his grip tight on the dagger, breathing controlled.

‘They’re going to trick you, I don’t know how, just that…ugh!’ She was cut off mid-sentence as Ares thrust the blade through her throat. Roy stepped back and twisted around to face him.

‘What the hell, man?’

‘I’m sorry. She put up a good face, bought us enough time. But ultimately, expendable.’

‘What?’ Roy looked around him, confused. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t need to.’ He replied with a savage growl and pulled the dagger out of her limp body, nodding to the darkness behind Roy. Too late the archer turned around and saw three heavily armed figures emerging from the darkness. They held up assault rifles and pointed them directly at him. Roy raised his hands, blow clattering to the pavement. 

‘Gag him. And bag his head.’ Ares barked the orders as two of his henchmen hurried to comply. He bent over to pick up the bow, glancing up to see the hurt in Roy’s eyes even as they roughly stuffed his mouth with cloth. ‘Come on, the Arrow will be here soon.’ He held up a hand and gestured to the men guiding Roy to follow him. ‘The rest of you, dispose of her and make sure the Arrow finds his way to us. I have something he wants back!’

 

Oliver sighed to himself, troubled at the sudden turn of events. He had arrived in time to see the man Roy called the Justicar duel with the woman they had been chasing all night. Then he watched the interrogation, a sense of unease creeping up his spine, confirmed in the sudden murder of the informant. He watched carefully as other men joined the Justicar, resisting the urge to jump right in. He had to save Roy, that clenching feeling in his stomach confirming what he had thought about on the way over: him and Roy, it was more than just sex. He really liked the guy, even if he was a guy. He couldn’t stand being away from Roy, he needed him. 

Time for a rescue mission.

 

Path Divergence: Two

 

‘Fuck. How were they going to capture me?’

Ares took a deep breath, cutting off the woman as she was about to speak, ‘Me. They were going to use me to bait you out.’

‘What?’ Roy looked at him, open mouthed, the shock etched all over his face. ‘But…But, I…’

‘Don’t worry. I changed my mind, about being used. They gave me power, gave me weapons, and I turned on them.’

‘Was it all a lie?’

‘No. I told you the truth about my parents, well mostly. My name really is Ares, they, uh, owed a lot of money to the Herring and his gang, the Fish Mongers. My mother was more of a treasure hunter than archaeologist. She always had a “haul of the century” idea, never worked out.’ Ares was looking away from them, his voice resigned with a bitter undertone. ‘Then one day she was killed, in a mine shaft. After. that. one. big. haul. I was eight. My father lost everything trying to pay the Herring off. Even offered me as payment. They took his head, and then they took me.’ He sighed and turned back to face Roy, ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you earlier.’

‘No shit.’

‘At first they were going to sell me on. Make back some of their investment. But then I saved the Herring’s little girl after she fell into his fish processing plant. Couldn’t get to the idiot boy who led her in there though.’ He was looking down at his gloved hands. Roy listened to him explain, lips parted as he tried to decide what to think.

‘The Herring runs a shadow cartel; taking a cut from every illegal activity in the city. Fingers in all the pies. The Arrow keeps destroying that though, keeps getting in the way. He thought if we captured you, the Arrow would come for you; two birds one stone kinda thing. I invented the Justicar, worked to make a name for him and then shadowed your movements, followed you everywhere. I know you and the Arrow…’

‘Do you know who he is?’

‘Yeah, but Oliver Queen is just a man, the Arrow is something more. It’s hard to break a symbol, much easier to break the man.’

‘So what, you grew a conscience?’

‘I wouldn’t say that. But when I met you, well…’

‘Do you…? Do you like me?’

‘Yeah, a lot. But I get that you can’t trust me, right?’

‘Yeah. It’s kinda hard to trust someone who lies with a straight face. Even if, he’s pretty fucking hot.’ Roy grinned at him. ‘Is the plan still in motion?’

‘Shouldn’t be, I killed the Herring, chopped him up, just like you threatened her with. Second in command would be…the Sunfish.’

‘What is it with you guys and fish?’

‘Everyone needs a codename, Red Arrow!’

‘Right.' Roy grinned again, 'I better tell Oliver.’

‘Ok, I’ll come with you. What about her?’

‘Leave her, she’s no threat.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Hey, you said you weren’t like them, you never would have made up a hero who seeks justice if you just killed everyone who got in the way, or whatever. Come on.’

‘You go. I’ll cut her loose.’

‘Okay.’ Roy left them in the dark alley and ran back to get his bike.

 

Ares turned back to the woman. ‘Well Sandra, that was quite the show.’ He cut the restraints. ‘I trust you can get home okay?’

‘Of course, Ares.’ She paused and turned back to him, ‘You didn’t tell him everything?’

‘Oh? The plan, the hero, the death of the Herring? I think I covered it all.’

‘So why did you need me to tell him?’

‘I need the Fish Mongers remade, not killed off, taking the Arrow’s precious toyboy would have only destroyed them. This way, we pick up the pieces.’

‘And go back to the old ways; murder, extortion, blackmail, robbery? I don’t think the Arrow will endorse that.’

‘I have new ideas, for a new city. Team Arrow needs support, tech, weapons, logistics, enforcement. Operating out of that dingy cave hinders their ability to “protect the city.”’ He made the false quotation marks with his hands as he grinned, ‘We change the game to fit our skills.’

‘You think that will work?’

‘Maybe. You need to get back to the Sunfish. Tell him you escaped, or I let you go, whatever works best. All going well, I’ll see you in a few hours.’

‘What about Red Arrow?’

‘What about him?’

‘Are you going to let him go back to Queen?’

‘Who knows?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this I felt that there were two equally compelling paths for the story to go on. Normally I choose one and the story continues on as intended. Here I’ve decided to let them both run. The first is obviously darker and more inclined to a Roy/Oliver centric ending, while the second is more positive and will likely end up with either Roy/Oliver, or Roy/Ares/Oliver. In the final chapter, I’ll write them both and you can read whichever you prefer, or both.


	5. Path One: Onslaught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To recap: Path One is where Ares betrays Roy, captures him and uses him as bait to get to Oliver.

He follows him stealthily until they arrive at a wharf side warehouse. The logo on the side is faded out, but Oliver remembers some run-ins with a small time operation; maybe they were a lot bigger than he thought. He dropped to a crouch and snuck past the open door, heading for the low sloping roof. Jumping up, Oliver walked quietly over to one of the skylights and looked in. The room was relatively small, cut off from the rest of the warehouse by a huge stack of pallets. Armed guards strolled around, guns casually held by their side as Oliver focused in on the two men at the rear of the room.

Ares stood before Roy, the archer’s hood pulled back, mask still on though, his arms tied above his head, not quite low enough for him to stand up, not quite hanging there, barely conscious, eyes fluttering. Ares still has his hood on, the silvery steel of his armour glinting like fish scales in the bright fluorescent light, one gloved hand beating a rhythm on the hilt of his sword, the other gently tracing over Roy’s face; his strong jaw, the curve of his chin, the softness of his nose, and around the edges of the mask. He was whispering to him, too low for Oliver to hear. Oliver counted only ten henchmen, each carrying an automatic rifle, faces covered; their breath frosting in the coldness of the warehouse. Only Ares had a more traditional weapon. As he turned around, Oliver noted the heaviness of the blade, the thickness of the scabbard, the ornate decorations on the heavily embossed hilt. He frowned, unfamiliar with any group who carried such swords. 

Ares spoke again, this time directed to one of the guards. Oliver tensed up, there was someone nearby. But his reactions were not fast enough; the cold butt of a muzzle was pressed against his neck. He froze, turning slowly as the gun moved with him. Two of them, their faces obscured, gestured at him to move. He followed them down the roof and into the warehouse. He couldn’t risk attacking in case they hurt Roy. At Ares’ gesture, Oliver was strung up like Roy. Ares pulled back the hood and mask too. ‘Huh, Oliver Queen, not who I expected. But I guess it makes a sort of sense.’

‘What do you want?’

‘It’s not what I want. It’s what she wants.’ He nodded over to a slowly opening door. The Herring’s daughter walks out, a clever, if smug, smile playing about her lips. ‘My dear, I have what you asked for.’ He slaps Roy, pulling him into full consciousness.

‘Indeed, thank you Justicar.’

‘A pleasure, naturally.’

‘I can just imagine,’ She circled Roy, examining him minutely even as he glared his hatred at Ares. ‘He is very…tasty.’

‘Sure was. Payment please.’

‘But, of course.’ She indicated to a nearby case and he walked over, opening it carefully, before nodding to himself. 

‘Thank you, it’s been a delight. You know where to find me for repeat business.’ He began to walk out the door.

‘Wait!’ Roy called out to him, ‘Ah!’ Ares turned to see him being struck savagely across the face.

‘Enough!’ Ares returned to stand in front of him, glancing to the woman, ‘If you don’t mind, Sunfish?’

She glared at him angrily, ‘Don’t call me that. Five minutes, no more. He’s mine now.’

‘Huh.’ He turned back to Roy, You want something Red Arrow?’ 

‘Who are you?’

‘My name is still Ares; the Justicar, bounty hunter, I guess you’d call it.’

‘Was everything else a lie?’

‘Pretty much. It was just business, a contract, an enjoyable diversion, a nice payout. A little something to tide me over.’

‘Until what?’

He grinned, ‘Oh, until my former legal contracts are resumed. You don’t need to know.’

‘One minute.’

‘Ok, ok. Give me a little more time with him.’

‘You have one minute.’

‘Fine. Anything else Roy?’ Silence, ‘Guess not.’ He turned to leave, nodding at Oliver who just glared at him

‘I will find you! I’ll hunt you down! You’ll pay for this!’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Ares slipped out of the warehouse and disappeared into the night. 

 

Roy stared after him, feeling the tears spring unbidden into his eyes. He was such a fool, to fall for a trick like that, for trusting someone he barely knew, when experience had taught him that everyone will betray him. He closed his eyes as he watched the woman, the Sunfish, circle him.

‘Aww, miss him already?’ She cooed at him. ‘But, I’ve reunited you with your Arrow! I thought you’d be happy!’

‘What do you want?’ Oliver spat at her.

‘You killed my father and my husband. I’ve lost everyone I loved. I’ve suffered as I watched my mother crumble into her grave, the business, the legitimate business, fall in after her. Imagine my surprise to learn that those two lights in my life hadn’t been killed by freak accident in the fish sorting shack!’

Roy looked over at Oliver, their eyes meeting as he stifled a snigger.

‘No. They had been killed by you two. So, maybe my father wasn’t the man I thought he was, maybe he had a few people killed, extorted a couple hundred million, blackmailed a few judges, but he didn’t deserve to be shot through the heart with an arrow…’

Roy rolled his eyes, ‘Is she going to bore us to death?’ He thought as the Sunfish continued to rant on.

 

Ares reached the end of the wharf, his car parked discreetly opposite him. He stopped and half turned back to look at the warehouse. Roy's betrayed eyes burned into his memory. He sighed to himself. ‘Shit.’ He pressed a small button on the inside of his silver scaled coat. There was a rustle as the silver scales flipped over, turning midnight black. The Justicar walked back towards the fish factory.  
‘Typical, no guards posted, no one on patrol.’ He muttered to himself, ‘Ah, and the Sunfish has started her torture. Well, screaming at least.’ He peeked around the still open door. The two archers were still hanging by their arms, the henchmen slouching against the walls and pallets, their minds unfocused. And there in the middle, the Sunfish was waving a gutting knife under the Green Arrow’s nose. 

‘Hmm, ok.’ Ares ducked back out, unhooking four canisters from his belt. He pulled the pins and darted back to the door, rolling the cans into the warehouse. He counted to ten and then a sudden bang erupted from inside. White smoke billowed out and he quickly fixed a breathing mask to his face. Unsheathing his sword he waded into the fog. 

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut when he heard the familiar clink of the canister rolling across the floor. Once it exploded he pulled himself upwards and kicked out, catching the Sunfish in the stomach, sending her reeling backwards. Roy was struggling, having looked directly into the flash of light when the cans detonated. The air was suddenly rent with screams cut short and bursts of gunfire. Oliver looked around him, seeing muzzle-flash everywhere as the henchmen opened fire. Within a minute ten guns had fallen silent, the final one rattling off to his left. It too was cut off, with a scream and a gurgle. 

Ares spotted Roy and swung his sword upwards cutting through the chains with ease. The archer collapsed to the floor, coughing and spluttering, his eyes streaming. Oliver was cut loose and felt himself fall to his knees, the air around him was full of yellow fog, impossible to see through. He felt Roy’s body being pushed into his hands and then being shoved towards the exit. He hoisted Roy over his shoulder and held onto him with one hand, using the other one to feel his way to the door. Once outside in the cool night air, he laid Roy down, listened to his chest and began CPR.

Ares watched them get out before turning back to deal with the Sunfish. She was barely conscious, sprawling back against a pallet. He raised his sword and prepared to strike.

‘Stop!’

Ares hesitated, closing his eyes. ‘Fine. Let the Arrow deal with you.’ He lowered his weapon, and disappeared into the fog.

 

Roy started coughing suddenly, rolling onto his side as Oliver pounded on his back. He was red in the face and unable to stand up but he seemed ok. The older man searched for his bow, swearing as he remembered they left it beside their boss when he was captured. He looked up as a figure dressed in black carried out another person. It was the woman, barely conscious as she crawled away from both of them to vomit over the side of the wharf. Oliver looked up at the figure. He was familiar looking, although his face was covered completely by a black breathing apparatus, the type fire fighters use. But he was no fireman and even though the colour of his armour was different the sword was the same. Oliver jumped up. 

'Ares?'

'Hardly.'

‘Who are you?’

'No one.'

'Huh? Why...?'

‘Just passing through.’ 

‘Did you see the other one?’

‘Other one?’

‘Yeah, dressed in silver, wore a sword like you.’

‘Oh. Him; the Justicar.’ The figure turned away, ‘He left, but I’ll find him again. I always do.’

‘And what should I call you?’

‘It doesn’t matter. We won’t meet again. You should attend to your friends.’

Oliver turned to look at Roy as he gingerly stood up. ‘They’ll be…ok.’ The man had gone, just vanished into the night. 

 

‘The gas was mixture of tear gas and some sort of psychotropic drug. It both knocked you out and probably made you see some crazy stuff.’ Felicity looked between the two of them. Oliver was finishing dressing a wound in his arm, while Roy was still taking breaths from the oxygen mask, his face flushed.

‘Yeah, I thought I saw someone, had a weird conversation.’ Oliver said casually. ‘Any idea on who deployed the gas?’

‘Well, I’ve tracked it to about a dozen incidents all over the country. All of them involve either a murder or kidnapping.’

'Does it…say who…it was?’ Roy said between breaths.

‘No name, only an alias.’

‘Well? Don’t keep us in suspense?’

‘They call him ‘The Justicar.’ Some sort of assassin, I guess.’

‘Yeah. We’ll find him.’

Roy nodded and kept breathing.

 

Later, after Felicity had gone home and Oliver offered to wait and look after Roy, a smile tugging her lips as she left, Oliver pulled up a chair beside the bed. Roy looked over at him.

‘Guess you think…I’m pretty stupid…’ He gasped out, the gas still affecting his breathing.

‘No, you were hurting. I was an idiot.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Roy, I thought I was going to lose you tonight. It scared me. You don’t feel like that if it’s just casual. It’s more than that. I want, huh, I want to be with you, if you’ll have me back?’

Roy grinned at him, ‘Hmm, of course. But...’

‘But?’

‘You gotta start treating me like a person again, Oliver, not just “stress relief.”’

‘I guess I deserved that. It’s hard though, well not that, but it’s hard to think of this, of us, as serious.’

‘Why? Because I’m a guy?’

‘It’s just, I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want what happened tonight to repeat itself.’

‘I can take care of myself Oliver. I know it’s a risk. But we both know how we feel.’

Oliver nodded, climbed onto the bed and rested his head against Roy’s, his next words barely audible. ‘I love you.’

Roy grinned, the first time Oliver had said it, even if it was just below a whisper. He let Oliver kiss him gently, before it became more passionate. Roy moaned as Oliver moved on top of him, lips moving past his jaw and down his neck, sucking at the skin one moment and licking it the next. He pushed Roy back when he tried to move.

‘No. Let me.’

Oliver slid down until he was positioned above Roy’s straining bulge. A brief connection of their eyes and then Oliver was pulling on the strings tying Roy’s sweatpants. Roy lifted his body up to help Oliver pull them down and off, while he took off his shirt. Now naked, Roy tugged at Oliver’s t-shirt and the older man obliged. Roy leant back and closed his eyes as he felt Oliver’s fingers run up and down the length of his cock. He began by licking the head and moving his hands down to cup Roy’s balls, massaging them as he took the entire thing inside his hot wet mouth. Roy groaned in response and arched up into Oliver.

Roy gripped Oliver’s head, pulling on the short hair and guiding him deeper onto his cock. Oliver moaned onto it, pushing farther until his face was against Roy’s balls, then slowly back out, repeating faster each time, until his mouth was flying up and down the shaft. Roy began moaning Oliver’s name faster and faster, feeling the tension build up inside him, clenching his butt cheeks even as he held on to Oliver. And then he can’t anymore, he yells out Oliver’s name, feeling him pull off, his cum shooting out onto his smooth abs. 

Roy sighed, satisfied, opening his eyes to see Oliver staring at him. ‘Damn, Oliver, that was…’

‘Amazing?’

‘Perfect. Do you want me to do you?’

‘No, I’m ok, you look tired.’

‘Yeah, mmh sleepy.’

Roy made to turn over and Oliver pulled down the sheets to get inside the bed. He threw an arm around Roy and held him close.

‘Hey, Oliver?’

‘Yeah?’

‘We’ll find him, the Justicar, right?’

‘Oh yeah. He’ll get his justice.’

‘Good…’

Oliver felt Roy drift off, pressed close against him, fitting together perfectly, feeling content for the first time in a very long time.

 

Epilogue

The man flexed his muscles as he donned the silver scaled coat and buckled his sword around his waist. The sun was warm and bright as the waves crashed onto the shoreline far beneath him. He tensed up, something instinctual caused him to pause as the hairs on the back of his neck rose up. 

‘Who’s there?’ No answer. Until the sharp point of an arrow pricks the back of his skull.

‘Turn around Ares, slowly.’

Ares turned, his hands up as he came face to face with Roy. ‘Ah, the Red Arrow, or Arsenal, as I understand you’re called now.’

‘Be quiet.’

‘Come to capture me, I take it?’ Ares looked around him carefully, out on the open headland there was nowhere to hide. ‘But no Green Arrow.’

Roy glared at him, bow taut, his eyes locked on Ares’ own.

‘You’re here to kill me.’

‘I shouldn’t. I should bring you back to Starling and let you rot in jail.’

‘But you won’t.’

‘You really want me to kill you, don’t you?’ Roy paused, brow furrowed, ‘Why?’

‘You were the mistake. The one contract I should never have taken. Of course, I only realised that afterwards.’

‘I’m with Oliver now, the Green Arrow.’

Ares nodded, walking backwards to the cliff’s edge. He reached down and unbuckled his sword, holding it out in one hand as Roy tensed up. ‘Relax, I don’t want it to go down with me. Maybe you’ll find someone worthy of the title “Justicar” one day. Someone who'll pursue justice and not make a mockery of it.’ He looked down at the raging water, ‘It’s very deep here. The tide is very strong. Wearing this, I’ll go straight to the bottom. No one will ever know.’

Roy lowered the bow a fraction, releasing the tension from the string as he took the sword from Ares, letting it fall by his feet. ‘Maybe. You could’ve joined us! You could’ve been a good guy, redeemed yourself! You came back for us. You even changed your appearance, I heard you talk to Oliver, heard you pretend to be someone else. Can’t you be that person again?’

‘No. That man is gone, swallowed up. I knew she’d kill you, make you suffer, bleed you dry. And I didn’t care, it was just business, just money. You’re nothing!’ He spat at Roy, goading him into raising the bow again. Ares turned away from him and faced the rolling ocean waves, a smile playing about his lips.

Roy snarled at him, so easily bated, and pulled the string back. But suddenly the anger rushed out of him and he flicked the bow to the side; the arrow flying out harmlessly into the waves.

‘Very well.’ Ares took another step forward, this time finding only air beneath his feet. He began to fall.

‘No!’ Roy darted forward to grab him, missing completely. He watched in horror as the man silently fell into the churning water, a strange smile dancing about his features.

Ares looked up to see Roy’s face staring down at him, the air rushing around him, the waves reaching up to grab him. 

Impact.

The breath rushes out in one motion, water rolling in to replace it. He feels his heavy coat drag him right down, his final moments revelling in the beauty of the sunlight dancing on the waves above.

Roy got up off his knees, shaking uncontrollably. He pulled out his phone, ‘Oliver, it’s me.’

‘You killed him.’

‘I didn’t have to.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Path Two will be up later tonight; some final edits to make it flow correctly. Thanks for reading and I hope you have enjoyed the story!


	6. Path Two: Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: Path Two: Ares reveals the plan, doesn't betray Roy and asks him and Oliver to help him destroy the Fish Mongers once and for all.

Roy slammed on the brakes, twisting the handles of his motorbike as he passed by Oliver coming the other way. Both bikes screeched to a halt, tires burning. Oliver stepped off and jogged towards Roy.

‘There you are! Is everything alright?’

‘Oliver! We need to talk.’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver looked away, unhooking the helmet straps, ‘Look, Roy, about what I said earlier-‘

‘No. Not that, we’ll talk about it later. This is more important. Do you have somewhere we could meet other than the Arrowcave?’

‘Uh, yeah, there’s a factory in the southern Glades we can use, why?’

‘You need to meet someone.’

Oliver sighed, ‘Roy, what have you done?’

‘It’ll be fine, he’s a kinda fan of yours.’

Oliver hitched a brow but shook his head anyway, ‘Great... I’ll see you there in twenty minutes? It has a big Queen Consolidated logo on the side, hard to miss.’

‘Got it, I better go back for him.’

 

Ares stood in the empty factory, the assembly lines broken and dust covered. The factory floor was empty and dark, the lights long ago broken, everything of use or value stripped out. The Arrow stood opposite him, turned to the side, his head bowed, voice modulator twisting his words. Roy stood between them, his hood pulled back as he glanced from Oliver to Ares. The Justicar had kept his hood drawn, the silver scales glinting in the moonlight shining through the broken roof, one hand wrapped firmly around the hilt of his sword. 

‘Let me understand this,’ Oliver’s voice was gravelly, robotic, ‘your gang hatches a plan to kidnap my…sidekick, you back out and now they’ve put a price on all of us?’

‘Well, first off: not my gang, not anymore. Secondly, that plan should’ve died with their leader-‘

‘Who you murdered, viciously. Guess I just solved all those grisly murders from this past month.’

‘Yes, congrats to you. But those people deserved it. Well, maybe not the first ones, they were just in the way. But the last ones, now they needed to taste justice.’

‘By chopping them up?’

‘Guys?’ Roy interjected, ‘Uh, can we talk about this later? Isn’t there more important things to discuss?’

Oliver nods, ‘Why exactly do you need my help? Our help? More to the point why should we give it to you?’

‘I don’t need your help. I could take them out easily, but I figured that you’d want to capture the leaders and the thugs. I don’t really do prisoners. Sure you and your boy wonder over there can stand here all night looking pretty, while I go and chop people up for being bad guys, but I understand that you don’t like that kinda thing. Well, not anymore.’ He added with a sly grin.

‘So if we don’t help you, you’ll kill them all?’

The Justicar nods, and turns to Roy, ‘I can see you want him back, Green Arrow. Do this for me and I’ll leave you two alone. He’ll be all yours.’

‘What? I’m not a prize! You can’t just-‘

‘Deal.’ Oliver walked over to the Justicar, hoods barely apart. ‘But you leave town. I don’t ever want to see you again.’

Ares tilted his head, weighing up his options, as Roy glared at the two of them. ‘Leave town? I’m not sure I can do that. But…if that’s what it takes to earn your trust, Arrow, you have my word.’

‘Good.’ Oliver looked at Roy and grasped Ares’ outstretched hand. ‘Now, where are we going?’

‘The Fish Mongers run out of the Salty Seafish plant on Wharf 19. Warehouse nearby is likely to be our access point. They’ve kept themselves off your radar by operating through other gangs, but they’ve amassed quite the arsenal of weaponry; assault rifles, RPGs, grenades, C4, you name it, they probably have a shipment of it.’

‘How many men?’

‘Between thirty and fifty, depending on the time we attack. Early morning’s best, come in with the fog and they’ll never see us until it’s too late. Take down the perimeter guards  
and it’s a straight shot to the Sunfish.’

‘Sun. Fish?’

‘Their boss,’ Roy replied, ‘they have a thing about fish.’

‘Huh, how come you don’t have a codename?’ Oliver nodded at Ares.

‘I did.’

‘Let me guess: Swordfish.’

‘Very funny, Roy. No, they called me the Bluebottle.’

Roy frowned as Oliver turned back to face them, ‘I don’t get it.’

‘Bluebottles are better known as the Man o’ War jellyfish.’ Oliver glared at Ares, ‘lethal, treacherous, can strike at any moment. And very dangerous.’

‘What can I say, looks can be deceiving.’ He gestured for them to follow him outside, ‘We should get going soon. I’ll meet you there, no doubt you have things to discuss.’  
Oliver grunted in reply and Roy nodded. Ares walked past them and disappeared into the night, his last remark pointed at Roy, ‘I told you I’d like to see your Arrow!’

 

Roy watched the Justicar disappear into the night, his armour blending remarkably well with the flickering lights of the city at night. He could feel Oliver’s disapproving stare boring into him from behind. Sighing he turned around to face the older man.

‘What? I guess you don’t like him?’

‘You have to ask me that? Of all the gay men in this city, how do you manage to find the one that is both a sword wielding psychopath and strangely handsome?’ Oliver muttered the last word even as Roy smirked at him.

‘Handsome, huh? Guess you are jealous!’

‘I’m not jealous. I do want you back, he’s just a really good looking guy, mysterious, obviously strong if he’s throwing that sword around.’

‘Hmm, maybe you should date him then?’ Roy snickered as Oliver gritted his teeth in response. ‘Hey! I might like both of you, but there was no way you should’ve made that  
agreement with him. Don’t I get a say in who I can date?’

‘Not him. And no, that agreement was for the best. Seriously, Roy, he’s fucking insane.’

‘What?’

‘He stood there and told us that if we didn’t help him, he’d straight up kill thirty guys, chop them up, like fish food. He’d didn’t even bat an eyelid!’

‘I think he was just trying to impress you, Oliver. Like I said earlier, he’s a fan of your work.’

Oliver grumbled as he and Roy left the factory, ‘I kinda wish he wasn’t, reminds me too much of myself.’

‘Yeah. So we’re helping him, right?’

Oliver stopped, looking at Roy, it was the first time in as many days that they were talking to one another normally, maybe helping his friend was a reasonable price. ‘Sure. But try not to kill anyone.’

 

It was just as Ares had described it, Wharf 19 was quiet, the street lamps glowing warmly in the morning fog, the heaviness of it dampening any sounds. Roy started when Ares emerged silently just in front of him. They didn’t speak as he held up three fingers and pointed at the nearby entrance. Oliver nodded and gestured for Roy to follow him. Ares jogged ahead and soon a muffled cry could be heard. Roy’s target appeared suddenly before him. He reacted quickly, grabbing the guard around the neck and swinging his body weight up and across him, the man toppled to the ground without a sound. Oliver silently dispatched the last guard with a swift punch to the forehead, grabbing him as he collapsed and dragging the unconscious body away from the door. The archers pulled out their bows as they followed Ares inside, his sword still in its scabbard, his thin knife drawn and bloody. 

They walked silently past the rows of boxes and ice covered piles of fish, until they reached a wooden door. Ares gestured to hold, sheathing his knife and pulling out his sword, the heavy blade sliding out softly as he gripped the hilt in both hands. Using his foot he inched the door open. Nothing. He walked calmly to the center of the room, the archers staring after him. Suddenly a spotlight ignites, then ten, centred on the Justicar. The light is blinding but he simply stands there, hood covering his eyes, sword held in front of him, head bowed as the sound of guns cocked at him fills the room. The slow clap of the Sunfish as he emerges from the rear of the warehouse to stand before Ares. The man lives up to his name, his hair is a brilliant blond, his teeth a dazzling white. Ares watched out the corner of his eye as Sandra nodded at him, before slipping away, his eyes snapping back to focus on the Sunfish as he walked slowly down to stand in front of him. 

‘Well, well. Look who came home. I thought you turned your back on us.’

‘And I thought the plan was called off. For the Arrow, I mean.’

‘The Arrow only captures our people, but you kill them. You’re a much bigger threat.’

‘I imagine you’re regretting buying me this fantastically bullet proof outfit now Sun, huh?’

‘Yeah,’ he growled, ‘let’s put that to the test, Ares. Open fire!’

The guards begin to fire, Oliver grabs Roy as he tries to jump up, ‘No! Roy, wait!’

‘Let me go, Oliver! He’ll be destroyed!’

Oliver holds him tight, even as he squirms to get away, together watching as Ares continues to stand there motionless, bullets ricocheting off his armour, spent cases pilling around the guard, sword dropped to his side. The Sunfish stares at him, the smile freezing on his face. The guards begin to stop firing, their magazines running dry. Oliver releases Roy and they both string explosive arrows to their bows. The final gun clatters to a halt and Ares looks up, smoke rising from the impacts on his steel plated armour, he grimaces as one or two bullets buried deep, nicking the surface of his skin, a particularly lucky shot hitting the weak spot between the armour and his gloves. He stares at the Sunfish even as Oliver unleashes the first arrow, raising his sword back up to his face. The arrow sails through the air to explode near the spotlights, plunging the room into semi-darkness, as the guards resume firing, shards of glass raining down.

Ares dances around the guards, his speed catching them all by surprise, darting between men and pulling his sword around after him, the heavy blade causing havoc, cutting guards apart as showers of gore explode everywhere. Roy fires a second explosive arrow, covering Oliver who moves in to attack a nearby group of guards. Ares lunges forward, his sword reaping in an arc in front of him, the cries of his victims ringing out over the gunfire. The splash of blood is everywhere as the heavy blade cuts through the Kevlar armour with ease. Roy is firing arrows rapidly, as Oliver fights his way to Ares. Grabbing his shoulder, the archer pulls him around, ‘We need to leave, there’s too many!’ 

‘No! The Sunfish must not escape! You go!’ he pushes Oliver away and smashed a nearby gunman with the flat of the blade, sending him reeling. Ares battles his way through the hordes of gunmen until he breaches the rear of the warehouse. Oliver staying behind to cover their exit, ducking and weaving as Roy follows Ares, getting distracted by an RPG wielding guard and laying him down with a dozen punches. Ares comes skidding to a halt before the Sunfish, who was waiting for him, a large black gun pointing at him.

‘Mass penetrator rounds. They use them to punch holes in tanks. I think it’ll really test you!’ 

Roy bursts through behind Ares, bringing his bow to bear on the man in front of them. The Sunfish sees the quick glance Ares gives to Roy and adjusts his target, firing with a loud bang. Time dilates as Ares makes the connection, shoving Roy out of the way, the bullet twisting slowly fire erupting from the gun, smoke pouring out after it, the molten metal plunges through the Justicar’s silver robes, punching a hole right through his chest. Time speeds up again and in an instant Roy is on the ground, Ares’ sightless eyes staring and him, hood ripped back, blood everywhere, pouring from his ruined armour until it is no longer silver, but crimson red. Roy stares at him, unable to comprehend it. 

Oliver barrels through the open door, the room behind him filled with broken, bleeding, unconscious bodies. He sees the Sunfish hurriedly and clumsily load another shell into the gun, the archer doesn’t hesitate unleashing an arrow, bolting him to the floor, the gun rolling away. 

Oliver looks down at Roy as he rolls Ares over, the younger man’s hands are covered in blood, as he takes off his jacket, trying to stop the bleeding. ‘Roy? Roy! He’s gone. Come on, you can’t help him.’

‘No! He can’t be, he saved my life! I can’t…’ 

Oliver knelt down beside him and pulled his hands away, meeting resistance at first before Roy gave up, his face numb with shock. Oliver sat on the floor and pulled him close, holding him tight as he looked down at the Justicar’s lifeless body, uttering a silent word of thanks to the fallen hero.

 

It’s a few hours later, the foundry is empty except for Roy. He’s sitting in front of the case where his armour should be, but he’s still wearing it, blood covered as it is. He’s silent, staring blankly ahead. Oliver had made him leave the warehouse, told him to go home, but he came here, guess it felt more like home these days. The older man had stayed behind to ‘deal’ with Ares’ body, as he said himself. Roy wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but he trusted Oliver. In fact all the aggression and upset he had felt towards Oliver had just melted away. It wasn’t that he entirely forgave the man, it was just that his emotions seemed to have disappeared.

Oliver opened the door carefully, knowing Roy was below him, his bike parked outside. Soft footsteps on the stairs, he descends, spotting Roy sitting, his blood-stained jacket open, bow on the floor beside him, just gazing at nothing. Oliver walks behind him and lays a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly. Roy starts, looking up quickly at Oliver’s tired face.

‘Did you…did you?’

‘Yeah. I recovered his sword. Thought you might want to keep it, I don’t know.’ Oliver swallowed and pulled up a chair to sit beside Roy. 

‘He died so suddenly. He died for me.’

‘Yeah, no matter what he did before, he redeemed himself tonight.’ Oliver placed a hand on Roy’s knee, squeezing it gently, ‘I know what it’s like to lose friends, people you’ve grown close to, to lose them in the heat of battle, to lose them to the choices they’ve made, trust me Roy, it’ll get easier. And you’ll honour them, you’ll thank them for their sacrifice.’

Roy turned to face Oliver, eyes sad if dry, hands covered in drying blood, face flecked with the Justicar’s blood, ‘I don’t want a hero, Oliver. I want my friend back!’

‘I know. Come here. Come on.’ Oliver held onto Roy tight as the younger man fell into his arms, feeling him grip tight, tensing up as he tried to control his emotions. ‘Roy, you need to get cleaned up, wash off the blood. Come on, there’s a shower in the back, I’ll help you.’

Oliver led Roy away from the main floor, ushering him into the small shower near the bed. Roy stood there, staring at the floor, unmoving, but unresisting as Oliver pulled down the zipper, gently undressing him; first the jacket, then the t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Oliver knelt down and lifted Roy’s feet one by one as he slipped off the shoes, tugging on his pants until the man stood there in his boxer briefs. Even then he seemed unwilling to go into the shower. Oliver sighed a little and stripped out of his own armour, steering Roy towards the cubicle, helping him take off his underwear. 

The water was hot, streams of it running down their closely pressed bodies as Roy leaned back into Oliver, just letting the water wash down over him. He looked down as Oliver lathered up the shower gel, gently washing the blood from his face and rubbing on his hands. Roy closed his hand when he felt Oliver’s fingers intertwine with his, unwilling to let go, even as the dried blood washed off, the water turning red as it drained away. Oliver held onto Roy as he felt the younger man slump against him, propping him up when he reached over to turn the water off. 

Oliver gently pulled Roy out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his shoulders and pushing him towards the bed where he sat down, water dripping down his body. Oliver looked at him, feeling that rush of attraction, the towel straining outwards as his cock engorged. Roy glanced up, noticing and beckoned him over. Oliver raised his eyebrows but approached the bed anyways. He tried to push Roy down, but he resisted.

‘No. I’m on top this time.’

‘Err, ok.’ Oliver didn’t really like being the bottom, but he could see from Roy’s expression that sex tonight wasn’t really about pleasure, it was, he almost laughed aloud, it was just stress relief. 

Oliver dropped the towel and climbed on the bed, legs spread apart as Roy reached over him to grab the lube and a condom. Oliver shivered as he felt the coolness of Roy’s fingers enter him, stretching his hole, first two and then a third joined. After a few minutes Roy withdrew and closed his eyes, jerking off slightly to make himself fully hard, he then ripped open the packet and rolled it on. Positioning himself over Oliver’s slightly raised ass, he paused for a second before thrusting inside. Oliver grunted at the sudden intrusion as he felt Roy plunge most of his cock inside his tight hole. The younger man pulled out a bit and then pushed in deep, pulled out a little and then pushed in, one hand gripping Oliver’s hip, the other reaching up to his shoulder for leverage. 

The rhythm is rough and hard and fast and Oliver is moving with Roy, moaning and grunting and whispering his name, even as Roy fucks him hard and silently, barely a noise escaping from his mouth, his teeth clenched together, on the border between grief and glory. Hard and fast, so hard and fast he plunges in and out of Oliver’s tight, rarely used ass. Roy could feel his thoughts running through his head at a thousand miles an hour, and it was almost like he didn’t want to be doing this. But he needed it, needed it right now, right at this moment, he was angry and turned on and frustrated, like it didn’t matter who he was fucking. The stream of consciousness just kept going the faster he pushed into Oliver. He felt like he was punishing Oliver, but he wanted him, needed him, loved him so fucking much that it didn’t matter: all the fights and arguments and shitty things they’ve said to each other. And now even though the Justicar’s damn face came floating into his mind he can’t stop, even though Oliver’s panting and moaning and jerking himself off beneath him, and cumming on the sheets and yelling his name, all Roy can do grit his teeth and pound him even harder, so close to the release. 

And then he cums, filling the condom hard, thrusting into Oliver that one final time, and grinding his teeth as he whispers ‘I fucking love you, Oliver Queen.’ Collapsing onto the man’s back, the rage draining away from him, it stops being rage and starts being the tears falling from his eyes because he’s right there on the razor’s edge between ecstasy and despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second path, and probably the preferred one, although I really enjoyed writing both of them. The challenge of having alternative endings was really fun to write. Anyway, this is finished now. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Author's Note:**

> So thanks for reading. As much as I love my other Roy/Oliver story, and I will continue that one, I had the idea for the Justicar a few nights ago and figured he needed a new story to star in. Plus I wanted to see if I could write the sexual side of the Roy/Oliver as well as I imagined it, hah! Anywho, thanks again and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
